We Are Grounders
by This-is-my-designx
Summary: TVD/The 100. The Mikaelsons are the leaders of a tribe of Grounders, spearheaded by Klaus. When the dropship lands, Klaus immediately starts drawing up plans for attack. When Rebekah meets one of them, she realises that complete annihilation may not be the way forward, and tries to come up with a way to unite the two tribes, until disaster strikes. RebekahxBellamy. Rated T for now.
1. Chapter 1

Even before she arrived home, she knew she was in trouble.

Almost as if someone had cast a spell, an eerie silence fell over the village as she walked slowly through. People were casting furtive glances in her direction before turning to each other and whispering amongst themselves. Some people smiled at her, but their smiles looked more like grimaces.

None of her brothers were anywhere to be seen, which was odd in itself. Kol, at least, was usually meandering around, trying to charm his way into bed with six or so girls at once.

Her apprehension was starting to grow. Their community was not a quiet one, and at this time of day was usually bustling with life as people went about their daily routines. What was going on?

She glanced at a pair of teenage girls as she passed them. They avoided catching her eye and looked at the ground instead. As they fell behind her, she heard one whisper to the other. She couldn't quite hear them, though it wasn't for lack of trying. She did, however, catch a name: _Marcel._

She came to an abrupt halt as the dread that she'd been holding at bay for weeks now broke free of her barriers and washed over her. He knew. _He knew. _

It was a relatively warm day. The sun was shining and the sky was an exhilarating blue; odd for this time of year. The air was still with the exception of the occasional breeze, so she was very well aware that the icy sensation that had settled over her, burying right down to her bones, had nothing to do with the weather.

She took a deep breath, and another, and another, in an attempt to psyche herself up for the short walk back to the house she shared with her youngest brother, Kol. Nik would almost certainly be there, lying in wait for her return. How would he punish her, she wondered. It seemed that as they got older, his penalties only became more twisted and disturbing. She often wondered how much of his time he actually spent thinking up imaginative new ways to punish those who went against him.

She could see the wooden hut that she and Kol called home now. Perhaps it was just because she knew what was waiting for her inside, but she thought that it looked particularly sinister, even in broad daylight.

She hesitated outside of the door. Should she knock? That seemed stupid, it was her house after all. She fumbled at her belt, feeling for the blade that she kept there. Her hand wrapped around the handle and she felt a little braver. If she needed to defend herself, she had an easily concealed weapon to do it with. She didn't relish the thought of using a knife against her brother, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

With one last deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. She adopted a neutral expression; a guilty face was as good as a confession.

"Rebekah," Nik's voice rang throughout the room, though he spoke quietly; barely above a whisper. He was seated at the head of what served as their dining table, alone. His hands were clasped together, the tips of his forefingers pressed against his lips. "I see you've finally decided to grace me with your presence."

"What's going on?" She feigned ignorance, plastering on a mask of confusion. "Where's Kol?"

Niklaus gestured to the seat at the other end of the table, directly opposite him, completely ignoring her question. "Sit down, sweetheart."

She obeyed without question. In different circumstances she might have refused, but she saw no reason to make more trouble for herself. "Nik, what's going on? What's wrong?"

He considered her for a moment, his cold eyes never once leaving hers. She almost shivered from the intensity of his gaze.

"You know, I've fought to protect you your entire life," he heaved a sigh. "Although you may not realise or appreciate it, everything I've done has been in your best interests."

Rebekah stared at him. She supposed that she should agree with him, or nod her head at least, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew her brother, and whilst his words rang true in regards to the past, in more recent years they held no truth whatsoever. Nik didn't do anything unless it was in his best interests. His overprotectiveness nowadays was less about protecting her and more about making himself look good. After all, what sort of leader – and brother – would he be if he let his second-in-command screw his sister without any sort of consequence for their defiance?

"Is there anything you wish to tell me, sister?"

Rebekah shook her head slowly. Klaus looked disappointed.

"I know, Rebekah. I know about you and Marcel."

Rebekah tried to hide her sharp intake of breath. She hoped that he wouldn't notice that her hands had curled into fists against the wooden table top, or the way that her world seemed to be falling – no, crashing – down before her very eyes, but Nik didn't miss a thing. He never did.

"What about Marcel and me?" She made an attempt at nonchalance, for Marcel's sake more than anything else. Their affair would be impossible to continue from then on, that much was certain, but perhaps if she tried to play the whole thing down, maybe turn it into nothing more than a silly crush on her brother's right-hand man, and an unrequited one at that, Marcel might escape with his life. The last thing she wanted was for Marcel to be the latest name on the list of men Nik had killed for daring to show an interest in his sister.

"There's no need to play dumb, sister. Marcel told me everything." He was smiling. That wasn't comforting in the slightest. She knew that his fury was there, just simmering beneath the surface.

"Told you what? There's nothing to tell, Nik."

He shook his head and made a _tsk_. He was still smiling, but his eyes were ice-cold. They'd been through this routine so many times now that they might as well have drawn up a script. "Why are you trying to protect him, Rebekah? You know, he sold you out almost immediately? He couldn't wait to tell me everything," he gave a short bark of laughter. "I shouldn't laugh, really. It's pathetic. It's embarrassing, actually. Again and again and again you give your heart out to people for showing you the littlest bit of attention. _Pathetic._"

"You're right, it is pathetic," she looked up from the spot on the table she'd been staring furiously at, willing herself not to lose her fiery temper, one of the only things she'd inherited from their father. "Go right ahead, laugh at the girl who loved too easily, but I would rather live my life than yours, Nik. No one will ever sit around a table, telling stories about a man who couldn't love," she laughed bitterly. "Did you learn nothing from our father?" There was a reason the five of them had hated their father, and it wasn't because he showered them with love and affection. "Although," she knew that what she was about to say was stepping way over the line, but she couldn't quite help herself. Nik's overbearing presence in her life had brought her nothing but pain, and she was growing tired of lying down and letting him pin all the blame on her and her constant need to defy him. "I probably shouldn't say "our" father, should I?"

She knew by the way that his eyes widened ever so slightly that she had hit out below the belt. She braced herself for the explosion, for the sheer anger that was about to erupt from within. The fact that Nik was not their full brother, only half, was still very much a sore subject for him, something that she and her other brothers knew very well.

He rose slowly from his chair, his eyes fixed solidly on hers. She grasped the knife on her belt, ready to pull it out and stick it through his eye-socket should the need present itself. He kicked the chair out from beneath him and came slowly around to her side of the table. Her breathing grew heavier out of fear. She knew what her brother was capable of, and that despite her being his beloved sister, he wouldn't hold back. He was indiscriminate like that.

Slowly, in the hope that he wouldn't notice, Rebekah drew the knife from its sheath. She looked up and met his steely glare. She entertained the notion that this time, he might actually kill her.

"Niklaus!" Elijah's voice broke through their staring contest. Nik's eyes slid from hers to the door, behind which Elijah's voice had come from. Rebekah let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. The door swung open and light poured into the room, along with it a breath of fresh air and a little bit of sanity. She'd escaped her punishment for now.

"What is it?"

"You need to see this." Behind Elijah, Rebekah could see a large group of people gathered out in the open, looking up at something. There were gasps and a couple of yells. Some people were even pointing. Rebekah pushed herself up from her chair, ignoring the glare that Nik shot in her direction, and pushed herself past the pair of them and out into the fresh air. She could see Marcel on the far side of the group. He was trying to get her attention, but she ignored him. If was Nik had said was true, Marcel had given up their secret rather easily. Apparently hadn't meant as much to him as it had to her.

"Bekah!"

She turned to see Kol beckoning to her. She hastened over to him, eager to put some distance between her and Nik.

"What's going on?"

Kol pointed at the sky. She followed his finger and found herself looking at… well, she wasn't entirely sure what. "What on earth is that?" It was large and grey, the size of a small meteor, and it was heading for earth at an alarming rate.

"Looks like some sort of spaceship."

Rebekah opened her mouth to refute this when parachutes billowed out above the thing, presumably to soften its landing. There was a collective gasp as the spaceship, as Kol had put it, made its way to the ground. What was going on? Who was in the spaceship, and more importantly, what did they want? Was this some elaborate trick on behalf of the Mountain Men? It certainly wasn't the Reapers, they weren't nearly clever enough to pull off something like that.

"It seems," Nik's voice came from beside her, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, "we have visitors."


	2. Chapter 2

There was a beat of silence. Rebekah looked to Nik, who was still staring up at the spot in the sky where they'd last seen the spaceship before it had sunk beneath the cover of the trees.

He turned to look at her slowly, and she could tell just by the look on his face that they were on the same page. She nodded to let him know that whatever he decided to do, she was behind him. Though she was still angry with him for what had transpired between the two of them only minutes before – and she knew that he was still furious with her – this was bigger than either of them. The safety of their community and their people was at stake here, and it was down to them to put their differences aside and do what had to be done to protect them.

Niklaus turned and gestured for Elijah to follow him before heading across to the wooden structure that served as their town hall. Rebekah turned and grabbed Kol's hand so that she could pull him along with her. Finn was nowhere to be seen, not an uncommon occurrence. With the exception of showing up once in a blue moon to reprimand them, Finn spend most of his time holed up with his wife, a red-headed healer called Sage. She envied him.

"Elijah," Nik was saying as Rebekah and Kol entered the hall. "I want you on standby. The commander needs to be informed, but not until we have more information."

"What kind of information?" Rebekah cut in.

"Who are they, what do they want? Whether they're hostile or not. They might not be a problem at all and we need not worry the commander at all, but until we know for sure…

Rebekah, I want you to take Lincoln and find out everything you can about them. Be careful, we don't know what they're capable of."

"And what am I supposed to do if we get there and they _are _hostile? We don't even know how many of them there are!"

"Sister," she didn't like the way he said "sister", almost as if it were an insult. She felt her temper rising again. What she wouldn't give to slap her brother in the face. Very hard. "Do you truly believe I'd send you into potentially hostile territory without protection?"

"Well, I suppose that depends on how angry you are with me."

"I am angry with you, Rebekah love, but if I wanted to kill you, I'd do it myself."

"Spoken like a true Mikaelson, of which you are not."

"_Rebekah, _that's enough," Elijah stepped forward, ever the peacekeeper.

"Oh, that's right. Side with him, why don't you. Why do you _always _take his side?"

"Because father never did," he said shortly, as if that settled the matter. "What is it with the pair of you? All you've done recently is fight and bicker and argue like petulant children."

"Look, I don't mean to interrupt," Kol interrupted, "but we kind of have a situation on our hands here, which you all seem to have forgotten."

"Might I remind you of the promise we made each other after mother died?" Elijah continued as if Kol had not spoken. "We stick together as one, always and forever."

Rebekah did remember, and she knew that Klaus did too, but a lot had happened since then. The Rebekah that had made that promise then could not have begun to imagine the heartbreak that was waiting for her, courtesy of her big brother. "And yet I never see him disposing of anyone _you _show a romantic interest in, Elijah. I never see him isolating you from anyone that might distract you from your familial duties."

"You're my little sister," Klaus said simply in way of explanation.

"Unfortunately."

If Klaus had anything more to add, Rebekah didn't hear it. She had turned on her heel and was out of the door before any more could be said. She had her instructions, she knew what was expected of her. She had a job to do, and she'd be damned if she was going to let a family quarrel get in the way of that.

* * *

She found Lincoln over by the well that was, for the most part, their primary water supply. He looked up when he heard her coming and gave her a nod. "Rebekah."

"Hey. Gear up, we're going on an adventure."

"What kind of an adventure?" Lincoln frowned.

"Get your stuff, I'll tell you on the way. I don't feel like sticking around here longer than I have to."

Lincoln nodded and, without another word, walked away from her. He would be good company to have on this trip; he didn't talk much, leaving Rebekah free to dwell upon her thoughts. She watched as he walked past the throng of people in front of which Klaus was stood, Marcel and Kol on either side of him, issuing instructions. By the sounds of it, he was sending a group of them off with Kol to warn other villages of their uninvited guests.

She could feel Marcel's eyes on her face, but she refused to catch his eye. If she was angry at Klaus, it was nothing to how she felt towards Marcel. How many times had he told her how much he loved her? How he would stand by her side against Klaus and protect what they had at all costs? She wondered what exactly Klaus had offered him to make him turn on her so quickly.

She watched them address the people a few minutes more before deciding she had better get her own gear together. She wanted to take all of her weapons, or as much as she could carry, anyway. They had no idea what they were up against here.

She was walking past as the group began to disperse. Kol was leading a small bunch over to the weapons unit. They weren't going out looking for a fight, but it would be foolish to walk around unarmed. These newcomers weren't the only danger their people had to look out for. The Mountain Men were still out there, Reapers too, not to mention any number of non-human predators.

"Rebekah!" Marcel was calling her.

She ignored him.

"Rebekah, come on. Don't ignore me."

"Are you sure you want to be seen talking to me? I wouldn't want to get you in trouble with Nik." She turned to find him coming to a halt in front of her. She could see Nik in the background, in the same spot he'd been whilst talking to their people, watching the pair of them like a hawk. "He's watching us, you know," she told him in a stage whisper.

"It was the right thing to do. You and I both know that keeping it from him any longer would have ended in disaster."

"It _has_ ended in disaster."

"Well, we're both alive, right?" He sounded uncertain.

"For now. If you think that Nik is finished with this, then I've got some news for you."

Marcel opened his mouth to reply but Rebekah was already walking away. Maybe one day she'd sit down and listen to why he'd decided to throw away something they'd spent months hiding from her brother in an attempt to preserve it, but today was not that day. The pair of them had agonised for weeks, looking for some sort of loophole, a situation in which Klaus would allow them to be together. They had been risking their lives just to spend precious little time together, and for what? For Marcel to crack the moment Klaus applied the tiniest bit of pressure? Talk about an epic disappointment.


	3. Chapter 3

Whilst it was a relatively warm day (for that time of year, anyway), it wasn't warm enough to work up a sweat, that was if you were lucky enough not to be hiking through the forest wearing a ton of battle armour and carrying a good three quarters of all the weapons you owned. Rebekah doubted that she would need the sword that was now nestled in the scabbard that was rubbing against her thigh, or the crossbow that Kol had forced upon her as she was leaving. The knives in varying different sizes that lay concealed on all areas of her person would be her weapons of choice. The quiver of arrows that hung from her shoulder and the bow would come in useful for long distance combat, if it came to such, and the axe that hung from her belt would be good for chopping wood, if nothing else.

It felt like they'd been walking for hours on end, but Rebekah could tell from the position of the sun that it couldn't have been more than an hour and a half, maybe two. Lincoln had been silent for the most part, speaking only to confer with her over their direction, leaving Rebekah to think about Marcel.

_She moved swiftly and silently through the trees, taking care to stay close to the trunks for cover. Her face was camouflaged with coal and ash and her clothes were dark. Her blonde hair, however, shone bright like a beacon for anyone in a half-mile radius who might want to hurt her. She wondered if she shouldn't have covered that in coal, too. _

_She stepped into a pool of moonlight and took the opportunity – and the luxury of light – to stop and check her surroundings. She glanced to her left; nothing. Then to the right; again, nothing. She thought she saw something at the back of her when she turned her head that way, but whatever it was had melted back into the shadows just as quickly as it had appeared. She grinned in the direction she thought she had seen something – or someone – move before taking off again. She was but a ghost in the night, darting between the trees, unseen. That was what she was supposed to be, anyway. She was hoping that if she told herself that enough times, it would will itself into being. She was normally very good at avoiding being seen – after all, it was something she'd been trained to do since the age of ten. _

_She took a step forward in the direction of a rather large oak tree when something grabbed her from behind. Her scream died in her throat as she was forced back-first against the tree trunk. She grabbed the hand that had her pinned to the tree by the neck and threw it off whilst her assailant laughed._

"_Come on, Rebekah. You can do better than this. I _know _you can."_

"_It's hard to take this seriously when I know it's you that's following me."_

_Marcel placed a hand over his heart and pretended to look wounded. "You wound me, Rebekah."_

_She laughed and Marcel grinned. She tried not to look directly at him, because when she did she got this… _feeling _in the pit of her stomach. A fluttering, like butterflies. She couldn't avoid his gaze, though. Not when she could feel his eyes on her face, watching her intently. She slowly brought her eyes up to meet his and, yep, there it was. The butterflies. She didn't even attempt to fight the smile that came to her lips in response to this._

_Marcel's grin had vanished, and for a moment she wondered if something was wrong, until his intent became clear. He moved closer until she was flush against the trunk, pinned there by the weight of his body. He placed a hand on either side of her waist and leaned in very slowly. She knew very well what his intention was, but she made no move to reciprocate, nor did she move away. She was paralysed by the knowledge that if they did this, everything would change. She knew that once his lips touched hers, she wouldn't be able to deny herself any longer. Any and all thoughts of Klaus would cease to exist._

"_My brother will kill you," she whispered as her hands found a place on his arms. He was so close that she could feel his lips move into a smirk._

"_And I'll die smiling," and he kissed her._

"We're here."

Rebekah started. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she'd forgotten Lincoln was there. She looked at him to find him staring past her, through the trees, where an obvious disturbance had occurred. All the trees that surrounded the spaceship lay flat, knocked to the ground by the sheer force of its landing. Smoke was furling upwards, alerting everyone within a hundred-mile radius of their arrival. Would they be so excited, Rebekah wondered as she watched them running around the landing sight, issuing screams and excited chatter, if they ended up as the Reapers' supply of food for the winter, because that was where they were headed if they didn't shut the hell up.

"Rebekah," Lincoln was creeping forward, his eyes narrowed as he tried to get a better look at the newcomers. He looked back at her, alarmed. "Rebekah, they're all children."

"What's your point?"

"Well, how dangerous can they be?"

"Tell me, Lincoln, how old were you when you made your first kill?"

"Thirteen," Lincoln replied without hesitation. You never forget your first kill.

"Well, there's your answer." From the age of ten upwards, the children of their tribes were trained for the battlefield. How else were they supposed to survive in this world? If these people were anything like them, their children would be just as lethal as the fully-fledged adults.

The two of them scaled one of the trees overlooking the landing sight, all the more better to keep an eye on their guests, and to stay out of sight. It seemed that the general attitude throughout their people was excitement. They were excited to be on earth, it seemed. Rebekah glanced up at the sky, wondering where it was exactly that they had come from. She knew that when the war had reached had ended and almost all life on earth had been wiped out, there had been space stations above the planet, harbouring the lucky people that had managed to escape. No one had expected them to survive, though, especially not this long. Supplies in space had to finite, how the hell had they survived 97 years?

"Look," Lincoln was pointing to a small group who were breaking away from the majority. Rebekah could see one of them holding a map. Where were they going?

"Follow them," she commanded him. Whilst they were watching them, nobody went unaccounted for. For all they knew, they were going to retrieve weapons, which was why they needed eyes on everybody at all times. Better to be safe than to wait until they were armed and even more dangerous. "Don't let them out of your sight."

"What about you?"

"They're just kids, Lincoln," she said, flashing him a small smile. "How dangerous can they be?"

* * *

When nightfall came, Lincoln had still not returned. She wasn't worried; Lincoln was more than capable of looking after himself.

Watching over the Others, as she had decided to dub them, proved to be a boring task. There had been a few scuffles, but nothing serious. Rebekah had spent a good part of the afternoon watching some kid a pair of shallow graves, presumably for people who had died during landing.

She had not seen hide nor hair of the scouts that Klaus would have sent after them, which wasn't at all surprising. It was their job to stay hidden. In fact, the job that she was doing was their job. She had a very strong suspicion that Klaus had sent her to spy on the Others to get her away from Marcel. That didn't matter, though, not now. Not when they had bigger things to worry about.

Although "worry" didn't seem like the right word to use. Whilst Rebekah had no love for the Others and was all too keen to get them out of their territory, they didn't seem to be much of a threat. The sword at her waist seemed to have been growing heavier and heavier for hours. She removed the scabbard and lay it down on two closely-growing parallel branches. After a moment of consideration, she added the axe, too. And then her bow and quiver of arrows. The knives she didn't touch. She had them concealed within her clothing so often that she barely noticed the weight anymore.

After making sure that the weapons were secure, she started her descent of the tree. If nothing else, she needed to stretch her limbs and find something to eat, otherwise she'd only end up passing out from hunger, or falling out of the tree due to muscle camps. The Others had quietened down, possibly they had retired for the night.

Upon reaching the ground, Rebekah stood still for a second as she considered her options. It was too dark for her to go hunting and expect to catch anything. Nuts and berries would have to do.  
Just as she was reaching into her pack for her canteen, a movement up ahead grabbed her attention. Her first thought was that it was Lincoln returning from tailing the small group that had gone off on their own, and she started forward, only to freeze when her eyes landed on a figure that was most certainly not Lincoln. It was one of _them._

Quick as a flash, she ducked behind the tree, hoping against hope that they hadn't seen her. She pressed herself flat against the tree, her heart racing, as she listened to the footsteps getting closer.

Her adrenalin was pumping. She almost _wanted _this person to happen across her. She was _itching _to launch herself into what she was sure would be a very underwhelming fight. She had to force herself to look at the bigger picture. As far as she was aware, the Others had no idea of their existence, which gave her people the upper hand. If she were to be discovered, even if she managed to kill her opponent and get away, the Others would no longer be under the illusion that they were alone, an illusion that Rebekah was keen for them to keep.

She could hear them breathing, now. They were so close. Any second now they would pass by the trunk and find her and the game would be up. She fumbled for one of the knives on her belt and slowly pulled it out, hoping that the movement wouldn't create any noise. She held it out in front of her, ready to defend herself from the person who she could now almost see. Any second now.

"Bellamy!" A voice called out. It came from further away, from a second person. She heard the first person – Bellamy – turn in response to the voice. He hesitated for a moment before walking away, towards whoever it was that had called him.

Rebekah counted to ten before peeking out from behind the tree. She could just make out two figures walking briskly in the opposite direction. She let out a sigh of relief and stuffed her knife back into its encasing. She hoped that Lincoln would be back soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Lincoln had yet to return, and Rebekah was starting to feel antsy. She couldn't return to their village without him, but the longer they were absent, the angrier Klaus would be when they did return. He didn't like to wait for anything, dear Niklaus.

The day seemed to drag on, and 12 hours seemed more like a week. However, she didn't let her concern over Lincoln affect the job she had been sent out there to do. She watched over the children sent from space unerringly, knowing that if she went home with an inadequate amount of, or useless information, her brother would be most displeased, and when Niklaus was displeased, everyone suffered.

It was early afternoon when a scream almost startled Rebekah right out of the tree. She grabbed at a conveniently located branch just above her shoulder and avoided what would have been a nasty fall – and also exposure.

"We want the Ark to think that the ground is killing us, right?" Rebekah could see from her hiding place a boy in his late teens. He was holding a girl over a fire as he spoke to a small group of boys who had hurried to find out the cause of the girl's distress. She could see a pile of chunky metal bands littering the ground beside the fire. The same metal bands that she had noticed the previous night, adorning their wrists. It seemed now that they were starting to take them off by force. Others stood around the edge of the clearing, looking on. Even from her position, high up in the trees, she could see that their expressions were either horrified or appreciative. "Figured it'll look better if we suffer a little bit."

"Let her go!" Another boy rushed forward and pushed the first boy – and the girl – backwards, away from the fire. He turned to face a tall, dark-haired boy who had been watching with an expression Rebekah couldn't quite put a finger on. "You can stop this."

"Stop this?" replied the boy who Rebekah was now starting to recognise as their leader. "I'm just getting started."

The boy that had been holding the girl over the fire – a pale boy with dark hair and wide-set eyes, had risen, unbeknownst to the boy that had pushed him, and now crept up on his assailant before punching him square in the face. His opponent didn't take to this kindly. A fight broke out between the two of them whilst their people looked on, cheering. The tall boy – their leader – was watching them with something that resembled a smile.

Although it had been the pale boy that had initiated the fight, the other one soon held the upper hand. He bashed the pale boy's head against the ground – the dirt was wet and soft, but it must have still hurt – and punched him again in the face before getting up and turning again to the leader. "Don't you see you can't control this?"

Their leader didn't say a word.

The boy on the ground pushed himself up out of the dirt. Rebekah could see something dull and grey – the same colour as the vessel that they had arrived in – in his hand. As he moved, she could see that the object had a sharp end. A homemade knife, she realised.

"You're dead," he started forwards, knife in hand, but this time the tall boy intervened.

"Wait!" he held a hand up to stop him. He held out his own knife to the other boy. "A fair fight," he said, and dropped it on the floor at the boy's feet.

Rebekah was enthralled. These people – children – were dangerous, yes. They were undisciplined, unruly and too easily controlled by their emotions. They were together only in the sense that they had arrived on the same ship. A united party they certainly were not. Eliminating them, if it came to that, would be easy.

It soon became clear that these boys, and possibly their entire tribe, did not know how to fight efficiently using knives. If they were unable to fight properly with knives, she wondered what else they were unable to handle. Rebekah sat, watching the two of them strike out at each other, shaking her head at their misuse of the blades. She could have killed the both of them in two seconds flat.

The boy with wide-set eyes managed to scrape the other boy's arm with the tip of his blade – just. Aggressive though he was, it was the other boy who was the better fighter, as he soon regained the upper hand as he held his knife against the other boy's throat.

"Wells!" A blonde girl hurried into the clearing, followed by another boy with long hair. They were two of the small group she'd had Lincoln follow, she realised with a jolt. "Let him go!"

Wells thrust the boy away from him, and the boy attempted to rush back at him, humiliated by his defeat no doubt. The one in charge grabbed him before he could get to the boy called Wells. "That's enough, Murphy!"

Two others arrived at the scene. A girl with long, dark hair and a boy. The girl's leg was bloodied and the boy was helping her walk. Rebekah tried to look past them for the last member of their little group, but no one came.

"Octavia!" The tall one hurried over to the girl and lifted her over the tree root she had been struggling with. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Octavia replied with a wince.

"Where's the food?"

There was a pause.

"We didn't make it to Mount Weather," said the boy that had arrived with the blonde girl. His expression was grave.

"Mount Weather?" Rebekah muttered to herself in confusion. She couldn't begin to fathom why they'd been trying to reach Mount Weather for food. The only thing they would find at Mount Weather was enemies, and lots of them.

"What the hell happened out there?"

"We were attacked," said the blonde girl. Rebekah froze. Attacked by Lincoln? She couldn't believe it. Lincoln was good at what he did, her brother wouldn't have sent him with her otherwise. Lincoln wouldn't have broken cover, especially not to attack.

"Attacked? By what?"

"Not what," said the boy with longish hair. "Who. Turns out when the last man from the ground died on the Ark, he wasn't the last grounder," he said with a shake of his head.

"It's true," the blonde girl said. "Everything we thought we knew about the ground is wrong. There are people here. Survivors."

Rebekah daren't move in fear that she would miss even a little bit of what they were saying. Who had they encountered? Someone from another tribe, perhaps? It certainly wasn't anyone from hers. Unless Lincoln had… No. He wouldn't. It couldn't have been the Mountain Men or the Reapers. If it had been the Mountain Men or the Reapers, she very much doubted they would have made it back to tell the tale.

"The good news is, that means we can survive! Radiation won't kill us." Rebekah hoped that the girl remembered saying that when she encountered her first toxic cloud.

"The bad news is, the grounders will."

Grounders. She assumed that was the name that they had given to people like her. Grounders. People who were born on the ground.

"Where's the kid with the goggles?" Wells asked.

"Jasper was hit," said the blonde girl. "They took him." They? Who was "they"?

Rebekah tuned out of the conversation that was now taking place and began to gather her weapons and reattach them to herself. If they were back, it meant that Lincoln had to be close behind, and they needed to return home to tell Klaus everything they had found out. She knew that her brother would be very interested in finding out who had attacked these people. These people who had landed in their territory. There wasn't another tribe located anywhere under a week's worth of hiking away.

"Life support on the Ark is failing!" Rebekah heard the blonde girl say. Her voice was louder, she must have been addressing everyone. "That's why they brought us down here. They need to know that the ground is survivable again and we need their help against whoever is out there." Rebekah paused in the act of tying her scabbard to her belt. "If you take off your wristbands, you're not just killing them! You're killing us!"

In the pause that followed, Rebekah wondered if this girl were not in charge. Whilst she had initially plastered the title of leader to the tall boy, it seemed that the blonde girl was a much stronger contender. She, at least, seemed to have a level head.

"We're stronger than you think," the tall boy addressed the crowd. "Don't listen to her! She's one of the privileged. If they come down, she'll have it good. How many of you can say the same? We can take care of ourselves!" Murmurs of assent were starting to ripple through the crowd. If nothing else, the boy made a good motivational speaker. "That wristband on your arm, it makes you a prisoner. We are not prisoners anymore!"

There was a collective "yeah!"

"They say they'll forgive your crimes, I say you're not criminals!" He was shouting now, so it was easy for Rebekah to catch every word whether she wanted to or not. "You're fighters, survivors. The grounders should worry about us!"

It was tempting, in that moment, to stride into the clearing, weapon in hand, and challenge that. "The grounders should worry about us", really? Her people had lived on the planet, surviving in the horrendous conditions that came as a result of the nuclear war, for 97 years. They had dealt with poisonous clouds that burned you from the inside out, built their communities up from scratch and learnt to live almost as if they were in the middle-ages (it had been hard for those who had lived before the war. The technology before life on earth as they knew it had been wiped out was highly advanced). They had survived harsh winters and unbearable summers. They knew the earth better than these intruders ever would. This was their territory, their home. If the Others thought that they could just stride in and claim it as their own, they had another thing coming. Rebekah, who had never known anything other than the world as it was now had been fighting for survival since the day she was born. They all had, which was why the idea that they had to worry about these children, these overconfident, undisciplined, erratic children, was laughable.

"Rebekah!" A voice floated up from the ground, a voice that filled her with relief.

"Lincoln!" She called down, looking through the branches in an attempt to get a glimpse of him. "Are you ok?" She made sure to keep her voice down, lest she attracted the attention of the Others.

"We need to go, Rebekah," he ignored her question. She wondered if he was being evasive on purpose, but she didn't pursue it because he was right; they needed to go. She finished gathering her weapons and began to make her way down.

She landed on the ground with a thud. She took a moment to straighten up and assess herself and then Lincoln, making sure they had everything they had arrived with. She didn't want to leave anything behind that would alert the Others that they had been there.

"Ok, lets go."


	5. Chapter 5

"They were trying to reach Mount Weather," said Lincoln after a lengthy stretch of silence. Other than the sound of their footsteps crunching against the forest floor, the only noise had been the sound of their heavy breathing as they ascended an upwards slope.

"I know," replied Rebekah. "They think there's food there."

"Not just food. They were after all sorts of supplies."

"What happened?" The blonde girl had said that Jasper – the fifth member of their little party, the one who hadn't returned with the rest – had been hit. That "they" had taken him. Rebekah knew as well as anyone that if the Mountain Men had been responsible, they would have taken the others as well. There was very little chance that, with so little experience of earth, and next to no knowledge about the people already there, four teenagers had managed to give the Mountain Men the slip.

"They were trying to cross the river," Lincoln turned to give her a significant look. Nobody crossed the river. "They weren't being quiet about it, either. The kid with the goggles – Jasper – crossed first. He was speared."

"_Speared?_"

Lincoln nodded. "This wasn't the Mountain Men."

"I figured as much. Reapers?" Lincoln gave her a look. "No, I know. Just trying to cover all our bases." It wasn't typical Reaper behaviour to lie in wait, unseen and unheard, waiting for an opportune moment to strike. They generally ran around in large groups, screaming war cries at the top of their voices. "It wasn't one of us?"

"Of course not."

Rebekah nodded. "Good."

A couple of minutes of silence followed. When they reached the top of the slope and found themselves back on flat ground, Rebekah took a moment to survey their surroundings. She glanced up at the sun, barely visible through the leafy canopy that the trees provided, to make sure it was still on their right.

"Their home in the sky is dying," said Rebekah as they started off again. She accepted the canteen that Lincoln held out to her and took a small sip of water. "The Ark, it's called. Their life support system is failing, that's why they're here; their people needed to see if Earth was survivable again." Which would mean that the rest of their people would be coming down, too.

* * *

"Rebekah!" Klaus's voice rang out across the village almost the exact moment that her foot crossed over the threshold. He must have been watching, she thought. Eagerly awaiting her return. It was only a minute before he strode into view flanked by Elijah and Kol. "Rebekah, love, what took you so long?" He looked agitated.

"You wanted information. These things take time, Nik. That is, if you want them done properly."

"Come," Nik held out his arm, gesturing for her to join them. "We were just discussing strategies."

She indicated with a jerk of her head that Lincoln follow them. The two of them trailed after her brothers. They were slow and sluggish from their adventure, but Rebekah knew that Niklaus would not wait until they were rested for them to relay all that they had discovered.

They were led across the village and down into an underground structure that Rebekah knew Klaus generally used for all of his Super Secret meetings, or when he felt someone need a "little push in the right direction". She hated it down there. The only light came from torches in brackets on the walls, but they were sparse. It was dark and dank and oppressive. She had spent more than her fair share of time down there as punishment for her many transgressions against her brother.

They were deep underground when Klaus finally reached his destination. Rebekah could tell by the pressure she could feel in her ears, and the way that her hearing was slightly muted.

"In here," Klaus unlocked a door and ushered them all inside another dank room with grey walls and a low ceiling that gave off the feeling that they were about to be crushed. It made her uncomfortable.

The long wooden table and multiple sitting apparatus – mostly rickety wooden chairs and stools, although the seat that Klaus had set out for himself resembled something akin to a throne – were new additions. Rebekah remembered the last time she had been in this room, when it had been sparse with the exception of a very down-trodden, very traumatised Klaus, after their father had tried to kill him.

When the knowledge of their mother's affair had leaked, it had torn through their family like a hurricane, almost destroying everything they held dear, including any and all familial bonds. The revelation that Klaus was not his son was something that Mikael had not taken kindly to. Driven by humiliation and a warped sense of pride, Mikael had set out to right the wrongs committed by Esther long before Rebekah had been born. In a fit of unadulterated fury, Mikael had gone on a terrifying rampage. Most of their people had locked themselves indoors and prayed that Mikael would spare them. Those that had attempted to reason with her father, or fight him into submission, were now buried in shallow graves about a mile away in a patch of ground that served as a cemetery.

Esther, who had turned her back on Klaus when he'd most needed her in an attempt to satiate her husband's fury, was also buried there after Mikael had returned home, still white-hot with anger, to find Niklaus there. What he was doing there in the first place, Rebekah still didn't know. Begging Esther not to abandon him, perhaps. In any case, Mikael had seen red and driven his sword through Esther's heart before turning on Klaus and attempting to rid the world of the bastard that had brought nothing but shame to the Mikaelson name. Niklaus had escaped, and her father had taken off in a rage, and she and her other brothers had been left to pick up the pieces.

"_Nik?" Rebekah had to stop herself from sinking to her knees out of sheer relief. After they had found her mother's body, with Niklaus and their father nowhere to be found, she had feared the worst._

_Nik was huddled against the far wall with his knees tucked under his chin. When he looked up, Rebekah could see that his eyes were red and puffy, and there were tear tracks running down his face._

"_Oh, Nik," she hurried to his side. She crouched down beside him and touched a hand to his arm in a gesture of comfort. She wanted to wrap her arms around him in an all-encompassing hug, but she didn't want to overwhelm him. _

"_She's gone, Rebekah," he murmured in a voice that was close to breaking. "Mother's gone. There was nothing I could do. I'm so sorry."_

"_Nik, none of this is your fault."_

"_But it is," he clutched at his own head in despair. "If I had never been born, Father would have never found out about the affair, and Mother would still be alive."_

"_This isn't on you, Nik. Please believe that," she took a hold of one of his hands. "None of us blame you."_

"_You should," he sniffed. "Father does, and so did Mother."_

"_I know you think she hated you, Niklaus, but she did not," tears of her own were falling now. How had their family fallen so far? "She was just afraid." Nik didn't look convinced, for her only stared at her, but he was holding on to her hand for dear life. "I'm sorry she turned her back on you. I will never do that."_

"_Nor will I," came a voice from the door. Elijah._

_Rebekah stood up. The hand that was still holding Nik's pulled him up with her. She offered her free hand to Elijah. He took it without hesitation. "We stick together as one," Rebekah told them. It wasn't a command, but a promise. "Always and forever."_

Always and Forever. A promise made at perhaps their most vulnerable. She wondered if Niklaus even remembered.

"So," Klaus lowered himself into the "throne" that sat at the head of the table and gestured for the rest of them to sit. Rebekah took the seat directly opposite him. "What do you have for me? Pray tell."

Rebekah glanced at Lincoln, who need, which she took to mean that she should go first.

"Well," she wondered where to begin. "They're all children, the oldest of them being eighteen at the most." Except the tall boy that Rebekah had initially thought to be their leader. He was in his early twenties at least.

Klaus didn't seem to find this information at all bothersome. In fact, he laughed out loud.

Nobody else did. Not even Kol, who found mirth in almost everything.

"_Children?_" Klaus repeated incredulously. "You mean to tell me that the pair of you spent two days spying on children?"

"Why is that funny?"

"Children are no threat to us, Rebekah. This is no concern of ours. Let the Reapers have them."

Rebekah sat back in her chair and surveyed her brother angrily. Instead of storming out, like she very much wanted to do, she decided to stay and relay the rest of their intel anyway, Klaus be damned. She hadn't spent two days camped out in a tree for him to laugh her off without hearing all she had to say. He could listen to what she had to say, what he did with it was up to him.

"For once in your life, Niklaus, I plead you shut up and listen, or I'll make you listen."

Klaus looked positively delighted. "_Make _me? And how do you intend on doing that?"

"Oh, I'm sure I could think of something. My temper isn't the only thing that Father passed on to me."

That wiped the smirk from his face.

"Rebekah." She had almost forgotten that she and Niklaus were not the only ones in the room. "Continue," Elijah commanded her.

With a flinty look in Niklaus's direction, Rebekah recounted all that she had learnt, from the life support system that was failing, their undisciplined, adolescent behaviour, to the fact that they were unlikely to all stand together if it came to combat.

When she repeated to speech that the tall boy had made, Klaus began to smile. As she went on, he began to laugh silently to himself.

"We should worry about them?" he interrupted, much to the annoyance of Elijah and Kol, who had both been listening raptly. "What exactly should we be worrying about?"

"Have you not listened to a word that I've said?" Rebekah snapped. "They were sent down here to see if the planet is survivable, meaning that there is more of them waiting to come down, most of whom I'm assuming aren't children. Who knows, they might even have an army.

This is our home. After everything that we've worked so hard to build, are you really willing to do nothing and risk them taking everything? Because they will. They have nothing down here. Nothing to lose and everything to gain. We have to do something."

"I agree," put in Elijah, who had, up until this point, been mostly silent.

"So do I," said Kol.

"And what exactly do you suggest we do?"

"The wristbands," Rebekah said. "I think they're used to transmit information back up to the space station. Vital signs and such," she paused. What she was about to suggest was extreme, but necessary. "If we kill them, the people on the station will see that they're dying. They'll think that its radiation and they won't follow them down."

"Hey," Lincoln leaned forwards, speaking for the first time since he'd relayed his part of the story. "Hold on, kill them? They're just kids."

"Do you think that makes a difference? "The grounders should worry about us", that's what they said."

"Look, you said they were already taking the wristbands off. The rest of their people might already think that they're dying. There's no guarantee that they're going to come down."

"Not all of them! Unless we take them out, there's no way to guarantee that their people won't come down. I wish there was another way, I really do, but I don't think that there is."

"This is madness," Lincoln looked around at her brothers, searching for some sort of support.

Klaus, who had been listening with a sombre expression, finally taking the situation seriously, held up a hand to silence Rebekah who had opened her mouth to retort. "I agree."

"_What?_" Rebekah made to stand up, stopping only when Kol grabbed her arm. "Are you _serious?_ Nik, they are dangerous!"

Klaus fixed her with a look that was clearly meant to frighten, but instead of shrinking down into her chair, Rebekah stood her ground. She was right about this, and she was willing to fight for it. "With Rebekah," he continued. "It's a risk we can't allow." He turned to Elijah. "Gather the people, brother. Preparations start at dawn."


	6. Chapter 6

As promised, preparations began early the next morning. When Rebekah woke and arose from her slumber, she found Kol half-way out of the door.

"It's not even light yet," she called after his retreating back. "Where are you going?"

"No time to waste, Bekah!" Kol called back. He turned around to face her so that he was walking backwards. He'd trip over if he wasn't careful. "Time and tide wait for no man." He seemed awfully chipper for someone on his way to prepare for a battle. Typical Kol. It was a time long gone that Rebekah had noticed how her youngest brother seemed at his happiest during trying times like these.

Shaking her head, Rebekah pulled the door shut before she went about getting herself ready for the day. It was sure to be a long one. Klaus would want everything ready as soon as possible in order to eliminate the risk at hand. She was almost reluctant to join in with the preparations, although she knew that she really didn't have a choice. Unless you were under the age of ten, retired or physically disabled and unable to fight, participation was mandatory.

Yes, it had been her idea to eliminate the risk (she couldn't quite bring herself to think of it as killing a bunch of children), and it was her that had pushed for it when she had thought she was being opposed, but that didn't mean she relished the idea. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If she could have come up with any other idea to skirt around the undeniable murder of children, she would have, but they had to look at the bigger picture. Soon, it wouldn't be just children. She and her brothers were responsible for the protection of their village and its people, and if this was what it took to do that, then so be it.

* * *

"Nice of you to join us, love." Klaus was back in his throne at the head of the table. There was a sheet of parchment lay flat on the table and a stick of charcoal in his hand. Around the table sat all of Klaus's inner circle: Elijah, Kol, Finn (that was a surprise), Marcel and two of his friends (or perhaps "lackeys" would have been more accurate), Thierry and Diego. Judging by the way that Marcel avoiding catching her eye, Rebekah guessed that Klaus's fury over the revelation that his best friend and his sister had been sneaking around behind his back had not died down at all during her absence.

"Where's Lincoln?" She peered around the room, as though Lincoln would pop up in response to her question. There was a general shrug of the shoulders that indicated that nobody had seen him or knew where he might be. Lincoln had made no secret of his opposition to Rebekah's plan, but she had thought he might have wanted to be involved in the planning so as to give his (much respected) opinion whenever he thought they were going too far. She had rather hoped for it.

"I want the area surrounded when we attack," Klaus was saying as he pointed to his sheet of parchment. There was a roughly drawn circle in the centre of the sheet, which Rebekah supposed was a visual representation of the spaceship. "Can't have anyone slipping through our fingers, can we?"

"What of the commander?" Elijah asked. "Should we tell him?"

"No." Klaus said sharply. "Not yet. If this pans out the way we want it to, the commander never need know. You know how he hates to be disturbed."

Rebekah eased herself into the empty seat next to Elijah. She wondered how he felt about their plan. He had agreed with her the night before, but other than that had been annoyingly tight-lipped on the matter. Elijah was a man of honour, but he was also just as committed to protecting their people, and protecting their family, as the rest of his siblings.

"How long until we can go in?" Rebekah looked to Klaus. She wanted this whole affair over as soon as possible. Dragging it out longer than was necessary would only result in room for complications. With a task like this one, no such thing could be allowed.

"A week, perhaps. I'll send scouts ahead in a couple of days to keep an eye on them. We can't afford any mistakes."

Rebekah nodded. He was right, of course. "What can I do?"

"You and Kol are in charge of weapons. You make sure that everyone out in the field is armed, no exceptions. Go."

They didn't need telling twice. The pair of them rose simultaneously and exited the room in silence. Once they were out in the corridor beyond, Rebekah felt like she could breathe properly again. She hadn't realised until she was out, but the atmosphere in the room had been suffocating.

She was glad that she'd been paired with Kol. Whilst she was closest to Elijah and Klaus (although her relationship with Klaus had deteriorated in recent years), Kol was closer to her in age, what with him being only a couple of years older than her, and therefore easier to relate to. He was also the more careless one out of the five of them, making it much easier to be around him than it was Elijah and Klaus, who watched her every move. Finn didn't care much for any of his siblings, so it was of no concern to him what she got up to. Or maybe he did, and he was just good at keeping his emotions locked away. It hadn't been until their mother had died that he had become so closed-off. Once upon a time, he had played the part of the dutiful eldest brother perfectly. He just didn't seem to care anymore.

The cave that served as their armoury was on the far side of the village, a relatively short walk away. They didn't talk on the way over. Perhaps Kol could tell that his sister was in no mood for chit-chat. Perhaps _he _wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. It wasn't the first time that their people had been involved in conflict, not by a long shot, but it was the first time that their adversaries had been largely juvenile. There was something sobering about that.

"I meant to ask," Kol's voice broke through her thoughts as they reached the entrance to the armoury. "Do you still have my crossbow?"

Rebekah frowned. What was he talking about? "Why would I have your—oh!" In the moment in had taken her to go over his words, it came back to her. His crossbow, of course. Actually, where _was _his crossbow? She couldn't recall seeing it, never mind being in possession of it, not since…

Not since she'd put it down at the base of the tree that had been her hiding place during the two days she'd spent watching the Other's camp.

"Oh my god," she came to an abrupt halt, the way people often did when they realised they'd made a colossal mistake. "Oh my god, I'm so _stupid!_" She made to turn on her heel, although she wasn't sure exactly where she intended to go.

"Bekah, wait!" Kol made to grab her arm, but she moved it out of his reach before he could. "What's wrong?"

"I left your damn crossbow at the landing site," she ran an agitated hand through her hair. "Kol, if they find it, they'll know we were there! They'll know that we're coming!" How could she have messed up so massively? She was always so careful. Always so matriculate. "I have to go back."

"What? No! Rebekah," this time Kol managed to catch her arm in his grasp. "Rebekah listen to me, you can't go back there."

"No, I have to."

"It's just a crossbow!" Kol didn't seem to be grasping the importance of the current situation, which only frustrated Rebekah further.

"It's not just a crossbow, Kol. It's evidence. Evidence that we were there, spying on them." She physically wavered when she remembered the look on her brother's face the last time she had made a mistake like this, a mistake that had not been half as catastrophic as this one could turn out to be. "Nik's going to kill me."

"No, h—"

"Promise me you won't tell him," Rebekah grabbed her brother by both of his arms and stared deploringly into his eyes. "Promise me."

"Bekah, I…" he began uneasily. Keeping secrets from Klaus never ended well, history had proven that time and time again, but Rebekah needed to at least try and fix her mistake before Klaus had to be made aware of her fumble.

"Kol, please. Give me a day. Give me one day to fix it. If I don't, I'll tell Nik myself."

* * *

It had been a little over twelve hours by the time Rebekah and Kol were finished kitting everyone out with the contents of their armoury. By the time their last soldier had left, his belt a lot heavier than it had been when he'd arrived, the brackets on the walls were all but empty. The pair of them had worked tirelessly, finding weapons suited to the people who would be wielding them. Rebekah felt at least a little bit more confident that when the time came, whether the Others were prepared or not, their people would be well equipped to deal with whatever came.

If nothing else, it had been a distraction from the nagging thoughts that had persisted to follow her around all day. Whilst she was confident that their people would be well and truly prepared, the thought of Klaus finding out what she had done made her feel sick. She'd been severely punished for less.

It was just before sunset when Rebekah found herself ready to set off. She had supplies, she was armed (hopefully this time she wouldn't leave anything behind), and she had Kol's word that he would not breathe a word to anyone about where she was going, especially not their brothers.

He had, at first, insisted on accompanying her, but Rebekah had pointed out that if they both went missing, Klaus would only send people out looking for them, and it would all get very complicated and messy. If Kol stayed, if anyone came looking for her, he could just tell them that she had retired early and was sleeping.

The hike seemed longer this time, perhaps that was because this time she was alone. Although the moonlight shone through the trees, littering the forest floor with pools of silver light, the forest was almost indistinguishable from how she knew it looked during the daytime. Luckily for her, Rebekah had been roaming these areas ever since she could walk. She knew this forest like the back of her hand.

If she arrived back at the scene of the crime to find the crossbow gone, what would she do? She would have to hurry back to their village. She would have to tell Klaus, a thought that made her quake in her boots. His fury would be insurmountable. Not only had she potentially tipped off their adversaries to the upcoming attack, and put their people in danger, she'd armed them with a lethal weapon. As far as Rebekah had been able to tell, their only weapons had been crude knives, made from scrap metal. Of course, one crossbow against 100 would hardly make a dent in their forces, but still. She wanted this to be a clean attack, carried out in one fell swoop.

Rebekah reached the tree that she recognised as the one she had spent over 24 hours clinging to. She held her breath as she approached, hoping against hope that the crossbow would emerge out of the darkness. As she had feared, it wasn't there. She walked around the trunk twice, just in case she had missed it, disregarding the fact that it was very hard to overlook a crossbow, even in the dark.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, careful to keep her voice down now that that part of the forest was now enemy territory. "Could things not have gone my way, just once?"

There was a _snap! _of a twig and a sharp intake of breath. Rebekah had an arrow poised, ready to fly, on her bow in the second it took her to spin around and find herself looking directly at the arrow protruding from the end of what looked a lot like her brother's crossbow.

"Looking for this?" It was the tall boy. The maybe-leader. Up close, Rebekah could see him properly now. He had olive skin and a smattering of freckles. His dark hair was a little on the long side and tousled, as though someone had been running their hands through it.

She could see his eyes scanning her from top to bottom. There was a flash of recognition. "That was you last night, wasn't it?" She didn't say a word, preferring to make sure that her arrow was directed at, and wouldn't miss, his head. She pulled the string a little tighter. "I thought I was going crazy," he gave a small chuckle.

"Put the crossbow down," she demanded.

"So that you can put an arrow through my skull? No chance."

"I'm not going to kill you." If she killed him, that would only put his people on high alert. She had nothing but the crossbow to gain from killing him, and she wasn't willing to risk any more than she already had.

"I don't believe you."

"I don't care. I won't ask again. Put the crossbow down." Rebekah could feel her heart sinking. It didn't matter whether or not she got Kol's crossbow back. Not only had it been found by one of the Others, he had also found her. Even if she returned home, crossbow in hand, they had lost the element of surprise.

"I'll put the crossbow down when you put that down," he gestured to the bow with a nod of his head.

"Fine. On three." He nodded. "One, two, three…"

Neither of them moved an inch.

"You know, we can do this all night. One of us is going to have to yield first. I can assure you it won't be me."

With a roll of his eyes, the boy slowly bent his knees until he was low enough to drop the crossbow to the floor without it making too much of a noise. He straightened back up and held his hands up in way of surrender. "Your turn."

Rebekah stared at him for a second. She didn't want to let it out her hands, but she didn't see that she had a choice. She hadn't expected him to give up so easily. She considered her options for a moment before deciding that refusing to put it down would be potentially more problematic than if she did. She kneeled down, the same way he had, and put her bow on the ground and the arrow back in its quiver. "Alright, no—" she froze. In the time that it had taken her to straighten up, the boy had extracted what Rebekah recognised as a gun from the waistband of his jeans and was now pointing it at her forehead. If he pulled the trigger, he would not miss.

She stared down the barrel of the gun, scared stiff.

"Now that I have your attention," he took a step forward and the barrel pressed flat against her forehead. "I have a few questions I'd like to ask you."


	7. Chapter 7

As if there wasn't a gun pointed at her forehead, very much at point blank range, Rebekah grinned.

"Shoot."

The boy snorted with derisive laughter. "That's cute," he said, pressing the gun harder against her head. She would have a circular mark there when he pulled away, provided he didn't actually shoot her. "For someone who's got a gun to their head, you don't seem particularly worried." He sounded irritated.

Her bravado was a façade. Her grin, and the casual stance that she had relaxed into once the initial shock had worn off, was but a mask. She _was _worried, but Rebekah had learnt a very long time ago that wearing your heart on your sleeve, and letting your true emotions show, was a very grave mistake indeed. Fear, in particular, was a very dangerous emotion, something that she and her siblings had worked out at a very young age, after watching their father lay into Niklaus so often for being scared of so many things, as children often are. _Fear is a sign of weakness, _Rebekah had heard her father say, more times than she cared to remember, _and we are not weak._

_We are not weak, _Rebekah repeated inside of her head, like a mantra. _We are _not _weak. _I _am not weak. _It had taken her a good, long moment for her to remember who she was, and everything that she had been through and achieved, and it was for that reason that hell would freeze over before she let some space boy intimidate her.

"Neither do you." Rebekah replied with a pleasant smile.

Confusion flitted across his face and he frowned. "Wh—"

Before he could come to any kind of realisation, Rebekah had brought her right arm up and, with as much strength as she could muster, knocked his gun arm away – taking an enormous risk in the process; it would take him less than a second to pull the trigger. The element of surprise, combined with her own considerable strength, served her well. He was knocked sideways by the sheer force of her blow. He staggered a couple of steps to the right, and Rebekah could see that his grip on the gun had somewhat slackened. In the second or so it took him to regain his composure, Rebekah had managed to dart forwards and snatch the gun from his grasp. She waited until he had straightened back up to point it at his head.

"You were saying?"

"You're not going to shoot me." He looked amused, much to Rebekah's intense irritation.

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Then shoot me." Any and all traces of laughter were gone from his face. "Go ahead."

Rebekah frowned. Was he really so foolish to play games with his own life? Or did he think that, by goading her to do it, she would not? Perhaps he thought that she had never handled a gun before, and therefore wouldn't know how to use it. He would be half right.

This could only end one way, Rebekah had realised almost the exact second that she had laid eyes on him. Neither one of them was going to let the other one go. Not whilst they were still alive, anyway.

The scales were tipped largely in Rebekah's favour. She had the gun, pointed straight at his head, and he was unarmed. Which, Rebekah noted as her irritation increased tenfold, he didn't seem particularly bothered about.

_He doesn't think I'll do it, _she thought to herself. His expression was infuriatingly unconcerned. _He doesn't think I _can _do it. _

Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Rebekah disengaged the safety. The boy raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, but other than that, his expression was deadpan. _Pull the trigger. _Pulling it would ignite a war. Albeit a war that her people were already getting ready to participate in, but pulling the trigger would alert their enemy of their presence, and of their intent. They would lose the element of surprise. But she didn't see that she had another choice. Not pulling the trigger was a good as handing him back the gun, holding up her hands and giving him permission to kill her. _Maybe he should kill me_. If he killed her, he wouldn't just ignite a war, but the wrath of her brothers. Though the relationships within her family were dysfunctional and strained at best, they were all _fiercely_ protective over one another.

_She couldn't stand it anymore. Niklaus's cries of anguish and pain were getting louder, only furthering their father's anger. It was different this time. Their father was… livid, more so than usual, after finding Niklaus whittling chess pieces with one of his knives. It was stupid, really. A fairer man might have overlooked it. Most people would have. But not Mikael, not where Niklaus was concerned. Rebekah sometimes wondered if their father was not looking for reasons to take his fury out on her brother, for he did so much, _much _more frequently than he ever scolded the rest of their family. Even Kol, who was in trouble more often that he was out. _

_She wouldn't stand for it anymore. No longer would she allow Mikael to beat Niklaus mercilessly for even the smallest of infractions. She glanced at Elijah, who was stood staring at the door of the barn, looking slightly troubled. He didn't wince whenever Nik cried out, like she did, but she could tell that he, just like she, was reaching the end of his tether. _

"_Father!" Elijah cried out in alarm, finally springing into action after a particularly agonising groan met their ears.. He pushed open the door that had been the only thing separating them from Nik and their father, and rushed inside. "Father, please!" _

_There was a sword propped up against the wall. She didn't know whose it was, nor did she care. The only thing she cared about was saving her brother from the relentless beating that their father was currently serving him. She grabbed it by the hilt and held it aloft before hurrying after Elijah. She almost fell over him, as their father shoved him to the floor, pushing aside his attempt to save Nik. _

"_Stop it!" She cried, pointing the blade in Mikael's direction, her intent perfectly clear. "Stop it!" That got Mikael's attention. He paused, relenting for a moment, to fix his only daughter with such a glare that she almost faltered. "I will not let you hurt him anymore." It was likely that, in his current mood, Mikael would turn his rage on Rebekah for daring to point a blade at him. Rebekah didn't care. She was willing to take a beating, if only to give Nik somewhat of a respite. _

"_You stand against me?" Mikael was angry, but less so. "For him?"_

_The silence that followed was deafening. She didn't need to reply. The fact that she was standing before her father, sword in hand, was answer enough. Yes, she would stand against him, for Nik. She would _always _stand against him to protect Nik. _

_Nik looked up from his position on the floor. He was bleeding from his lip, and Rebekah could tell by the way he moved – slowly and with a pained expression – that he was in more pain that he was willing to let on. She stared at her brother and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she hated her father._

_Mikael, breathing heavily from both exertion and anger that was only now starting to subside, snatched the sword from Rebekah's hands. She started and let out a gasp of fright, bracing herself for the blow that was almost certainly coming to teach her a lesson in what would happen when she was bold enough to stand up for Nik. But it never came. Mikael glared between Rebekah and Elijah, clearly disgusted, before pushing past them and leaving the barn. He didn't spare Nik as much as a glance._

If she were to die, her brothers would wage a war so terrible and so brutal that she was confident not a single child that had come from the sky would live to tell the tale. Niklaus especially would see to it that their camp was burned to the ground.

But then, Rebekah never really had considered herself a martyr.

On impulse, she pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

The gun was empty.

"It's empty." She was stating the obvious.

"Well spotted."

"Why would you threaten me with an empty gun?"

"When confronted with a gun, most people hold their hands up and surrender," said the boy. "I wasn't expecting you to go all Black Widow on me."

Rebekah didn't understand his comparing her to the Black Widow. The Black Widow was a spider that, after copulation, would eat her mate. In what way did any of her own actions compare to that? So she ignored it.

"I've fought people that are a hundred times the fighter that you are." And grown up with them, too. "A gun is of no concern to me."

"Brave Princess."

That hit a nerve. "Don't," the word was ripped from her lips like a snarl. One of Niklaus's choice nicknames was "princess", and he had the singular gift of making it sound like an insult, "call me princess." It was hard to look at is as an endearment when Nik saved it especially for when she was in the direst of trouble. She opened her mouth to continue, to tell him that, if he valued his life, it was well within his best interests to leave before she snapped his neck, when a horribly familiar sound, one that, under different circumstances, would have triggered an awfully large number of traumatic memories, assaulted her ears. Like a pyroclastic flow, the toxic clouds had a habit of sweeping the land, unencumbered, and destroying every living thing unfortunate enough to fall beneath the blanket of radiation.

Her mind was wiped blank, all thoughts erased. All except for one: _run. _

She ran. She ran as fast as her legs would allow, her harsh, heavy breathing was all that she could hear. She wouldn't make it back home – there wasn't nearly enough time for her to get even half way. She wasn't sure exactly where she was headed, she only hoped that it was away from the toxic fumes. As surely as the sun would rise in the morning, if she didn't find shelter soon, she would be dead before the day was through.

She wouldn't make it back in time for dawn, not a chance. She was going to be in so much trouble when – if – she eventually made it back to face the wrath of her brothers. There was no telling how long the cloud would last. The last one had dragged itself out well over twenty-four hours.

Rebekah had been so focused on putting as much space between herself and the cloud as possible that she almost missed it; a small opening at the foot of a huge wall of rock. It was partly concealed by the undergrowth, and therefore easily overlooked. It was a hide-out. A safe place. She came to an abrupt halt, and screamed when something collided into the back of her. She turned, eyes wide and breathing haggard, to find the boy. Had he _followed _her?

"What are you _doing?_" She almost screamed at him.

"Following you!" He bellowed back.

"Did I say you could follow me?" Honestly, she had forgotten all about him the very second she had heard the warning, but had the cloud got to him, her problem regarding not being able to let him walk away alive, would have been solved. Damn him.

He didn't trouble himself to reply. Instead, he pushed past her, making sure to give her a particularly hard shove, and disappeared through the small opening. Rebekah stared after him for a long moment. She wind was picking up, meaning that the cloud was getting closer. She really didn't have time to search for somewhere else to take cover. With a sigh of exasperation, she followed him.


End file.
